Tantric
by Gabriella1
Summary: it is a story..Trista Potter is accepted to Hogwarts..but whats hogwarts? and who's Malfoy? and...well why did Hermione keep so much from her?
1. Prolouge

Is there something that you are trying to say  
  
Cause I can take it  
  
Cause I grew up a man this way  
  
And if I'm hurt I'll shake it -Mourning, Tantric -  
  
She entered the room after her post-sex shower, the long strands of her chestnut hair still dripping. Standing in the doorway between the bathroom and his room she watched him for a moment. He was lounging on the bed, his hands tucked under his cerebellum, tilting his head to look at the wall opposite his bed. He looked too damn cute like that. The infamous silver- blonde hair was mostly stuck to his head, a few locks falling out of place. The grey eyes were clouded with melancholy. His muscular feline body was stretched out on the bed. The blankets were a waterfall fall the end of the bed, a few twisted around bedposts. The steam from her shower made the sheet cling to the curves of her back, her hand clutching the wrapped sheet around her body, held together at the breast. The extra yards of material pooled around her feet as she subconsciously shuffled further into the room. Her heart stopped as she realized she was prolonging this. She didn't want this to end. Her body and mind yelled and carried on like toddlers, wanting her to leave, to pick up her clothes and walk out the door. Something stopped her, kept her glued to the floor next to the bed staring at him. Her heart. He turned his head, knowing she was standing there the entire time. Goosebumps covered her damp skin. Her flecked hazel eyes stared at him, a storm of emotions held in one look. His eyes struggled to keep the tears inside, furiously blinking to get a clear look at her. While she was showering, the hundreds of thoughts, memories of her came back to him, weaken his resolve. Every misplaced caress, all of the cruel quips made at the others expense overwhelmed him. "Go. Now." Is it always that the most emotional words are said without a trace? Hundreds of words, feelings and memories were crammed into the two words, making it impossible to tell what it really was. He was standing at a sensitive crevasse. Here he could stand quietly and let it be or he could stop her from leaving. Common sense controlled him, keeping the words in his throat and not in the air. Even after the best screw of her life, she still didn't listen to him. Still the headstrong girl that irritated him since they met. Changes don't happen overnight. Her body was light on the bed, hardly disrupting the weight balance. His bare chest was rising slowly, his lips hardly taking in air. Her hazel eyes stared into his face relentlessly, both memorizing his features for future reference and to wear at him. To force him to show her one damn emotion. Not a hundred confusing feelings. She sighed, the look having no affect on him. Reaching out her hand, it was swatted away by his. "I said Go."  
  
- a/n: well.its short. Yea. I got the idea from someone else's (the name escapes me.it was an NC-17 one) story about Draco and Herm. It's pretty sad and short.I don't know why I decided to upload it. Sorry people. 


	2. Faeries

_So I'll be standing at the edge of the earth  
Hoping that someday you'll come back again  
I'll be standing at the edge of the earth hoping for someday  
-End of the Earth, Blessid Union of Souls-  
_   
  


Chapter One

  
  
            The twenty-seven year old witch pushed herself away from the computer screen. Her story was getting to intense, too close to her heart. Bringing a cinnamon bun to her mouth, Hermione Potter chewed on the sticky dough thoughtfully. The self-therapy she prescribed brought her to retelling her story night after night to her equally insomniac computer. After living ten wonderful years as a muggle, she had been brought into a world that would eventually force her to flee back into the nonmagical world of humanity as a new being. The sun was rising over the London landscape and the faint patter of a child's footsteps could be heard outside Hermione's bedroom. Her daughter was up. Their daughter was awake.   
  
            At 10 years old, Trista Potter was a homogenous mixture of her parents. Fair blonde hair hung in her mother's frizzy curls. Her hazel eyes held the same contemptuous look of her father. Her diminutive frame kept her from looking any older than eight. And yet, like both her parents, Trista's mind was as sharp as any 14 or 15 year old, an age far beyond her own. A sponge for knowledge, Trista was almost frighteningly similar to her father in the ways she could obtain knowledge of any kind. Quiet, it would be easy to think only one adult live in the house.  Hermione knew that soon, the precarious life she built for herself and her daughter was going to end. If Trista had no magic in her then Hermione would give all the money she left in her Gringotts account to Voldemort's heir. Trista was the daughter of two of the best witches to come out of Hogwarts since Dumbledore himself.    
  
            It was thought provoking though, it was almost the end of July and still no owl announcing Trista's acceptance. Hermione wished that maybe McGonagall realized that she didn't want anything to do with Hogwarts or the magical world again.  The possibilities of why Trista wasn't owled floated around Hermione's mind despite her resistance. Maybe they were looking for Trista Granger or Trista Mal...No. No one knew who Trista's father was. Except for Hermione and Hagrid. But...Hagrid had been killed in the raid that killed Voldemort just before Hermione left Hogwarts. "Mom! Mom? Mom!" Trista's urgent cries were tinged with excitement. A chill of dread coursed its way from Hermione's womb to all parts of her body. Foreknowledge that Hermione was partial too snaked its way to the forefront of her mind. Hermione had jinxed herself and now the letter had arrived.   
  
  
            Opening the door, Trista's eyes were wide, any idea of sleep from them. Around the room, a small owl fluttered around, a parchment tied to its leg. A rueful smile crossed Hermione's face as she thought of Pig, Ron's first owl. This owl was like Pig, angrily fluttering around Hermione's head as if in remembrance of her. Grabbing the owl, Hermione quickly untied the letters. It was strange that the papers were so thick..but then, so had her first letter from Hogwarts all those years ago."Don't worry sweetie...the owl won't harm you." A smile of reassurance was handed to Trista with the letter.   
  
Trista thought her mother had gone crazy when she had bought bird seed in the beginning of the summer but now she was happy her mother had. The miniscule bird munched on the seeds before flittering around the room again. Nervousness coursed through Hermione's body, uncertainty to her daughter's reaction.   
  
"Mum..who's Malfoy?"Trista's curious hazel eyes fixed her eyes on her mother. Her face was solemn, the petite body serious yet piqued.   
  
  "Malfoy?" The name startled Hermione. It had never been spoken in this apartment and Hermione had not heard it verbalized in almost eleven years. Perhaps McGonagall didn't realize whose name Hermione had taken when she returned to the muggle world.   
  
           "What..do you mean Malfoy?" Hermione's voice sounded far calmer than she actually felt. She scanned the paper mechanically, her eyes rolling over the familiar crest of Hogwarts. _Oh shit_....This wasn't an acceptance letter for Trista. It was from Harry. The familiarity of his words forced Hermione back into the magical world. Far from her daughter and the fragile life Hermione made for Trista. Suddenly she was fifteen and sitting at her desk reading the latest letter of Harry's adventures with Sirius and Ron in Romania with Charlie Weasly. Yes. She did miss Hogwarts and Harry and Ron after all.   
  
_Hermione-  
            This is highly unusual, I realize it. The parent gets a letter along with the accepted child. But... this letter was put off for too long.  
The other day I had the most interesting experience. I came into my office here at Hogwarts and you wouldn't believe who was standing there. I'll give you three adjectives. The man was tall, silver and still as gothic as ever. It seemed Malfoy had found you after all these years. I was truly honored that you chose my name as your new name in the muggle world. Truly, you were the best friend to have at Hogwarts and the brightest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw.   
I know what you're thinking..Why Malfoy would come to me...But Hermione you have to believe that everyone has changed since you left. Just like you must have changed in that time. He isn't like Lucius at all. No, Narcissa did have a positive affect on him after all. You too, you helped metamorphose him into the gentlemen he is today. He came to me and he told me everything. After eleven years, he decided to tell me the truth. And, he even gave me directions on how to find you. I feel sorry any Hermione Malfoy's in the world. They must have had hundreds of howlers flown to them and hundreds of apology letters.  But yes Malfoy has changed. He's an honest man now and I would say he still misses you. That night you left, you told me how "his eyes aren't hollow anymore...they are the mirrors they were supposed to be..." (Yes you can thank Madam Pomfrey for not giving me a memory charm so I would forget you all those years ago). And last week, his eyes reflected a sadness that has been there for eleven years.   
Like I said Mione, everyone has changed..and how is amazing. First, could you ever imagine me teaching at Hogwarts? I hope this job as the Defense Against Dark Arts professor last longer than it did for the professors who taught us. Lavender and I have been married for five years now... She is a very happy homemaker to our son James and daughter Lillian. Since you left the magical world I suppose you don't know that Pansy and I broke up. It was in our 7th year, a couple weeks before graduation.  It was for the best.   
Ron is actually quite successful...even if he never did his homework. He was an apprentice for Ollivanders after we graduated and now...well He and Hannah are happy. Yes they're still together. Twelve years this Yule.  We all miss you.   
Hermione I'm asking you to please forgive me...the wizarding world.. If you want to contact me, send Percy (the owl..not the newest Minister of Magic!)...maybe we can meet at Diagon's Alley? I miss you Hermione. You can surprise me though; Lavender and I will be taking James to get his things for Hogwarts so maybe you could just...show up at Diagon's Alley on July 20th? Please respond Mione. Please Mione, at least consider it.  
And yes Mione, Trista is accepted to the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She may catch the train to Hogwarts at the Kings station, Platform 9 ¾ at 10 o'clock.  
  
Your (hopeful) acquaintance,  
Harry_  
  
  
"Oh... oh Trista I'm sorry..this..isn't for you... at least directly. Trista...can I trust you tell you something no one else knows?" Hermione looked upon her daughter as an equal now, something that did occur periodically in their lives. Secretly, she was amazed at how her daughter focused on the one name instead of the other oddities in the letter. DADA? Muggle? Minister of Magic? Even the name Hermione? No, she concentrated on the name of the man who fathered her. She never knew him or his name before yet she focused on it.   
              
Trista nodded, her frizzy curls jingling all over the place. Moving her daughter to the unmade bed, Hermione strained her racing heart into submission.  
            
 "Unfortunately, all the eloquent grace I had with words at Hogwarts has left me so, I'm afraid you're just going to have to laugh at my bluntness. I am, as you probably are, a witch." Hermione paused and looked at Trista. The ten year old seemed unaffected by the announcement, like it was nothing more than her mother telling her that she would be going school shopping soon. Hermione almost overlooked the sparkle of curiosity that was sparked in her daughter's eyes. Hermione quickly continued before Trista could say anything, "That letter was from one of my best friends at the school, Harry Potter." Hermione heard the gasp but ignored it, explaining.  
  
"No Tris, I'm sorry. He's not your father. The night I left Hogwarts, that's the school I went to for witchcraft with Harry and many other young wizards and witches, I was asked by a muggle who I was. Harry was, actually Harry is, a very famous in the wizarding world. As a baby he did something very amazing that no other witch or wizard had been able to do. For me, Harry had always been strength and endurance, something I desperately needed at that time.  So I became Rowena Potter."  
  
Trista's face noticeably dropped upon the explanation, the hope of finally finding out who her father was dwindled once again. Subconsciously, Hermione put the maroon comforter around her daughters' slim shoulders.   
  
"I know you want to put me into a nut house probably but..Well..This is a world easy to show than tell...Trista, would you like to meet Mr. Harry Potter and the wizarding world?.. The second letter, the acceptance letter lay half-forgotten between them. Trista picked the parchment up and fingered it delicately..You can read the letter.."  
  
  


HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY  
~  
_Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
_

_  
Dear Ms. Granger,  
  
We are pleased to inform you tat you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.  
  
Sincerely,  
Remus Lupin  
Deputy Headmaster  
_  
  
The longer Trista remained quiet, the more Hermione feared that Trista was suddenly autistic.  After a minute of utter silence in the apartment, Trista spoke, her voice trembling with excitement. "Mum, I'll die of embarrassment if this is just a joke."  
  
A strange, twisted relief passed through Hermione. Trista...did want to go to Hogwarts? Worry followed the relief through her body. Hermione was now Hermione. Rowena would have to die now that she was returning to the magical world.  In a tight smile, a replicated joy Hermione didn't feel, she hugged her daughter...Today's the 20th"lets go get your school supplies?"  
  
  
*~*  
  
  
"Three up, two across...three up and two across...remember that Trista, that's how you get to Diagon's Alley from the Leaky Cauldron. Now, careful, I'm going to stay with you to get your wand and scales and cauldron. You can get the robes and books on your own....and I'll give you spending money." Memories drifted to Hermione's mind; of her first trip to Diagon Alley as an excited, energetic eleven year old. It was the first time she met _him_ too. His fair hair shimmered, the gelled back style wasn't an asset to him but at that time, Malfoy didn't need the looks quite yet. His grey eyes were as harsh as the words he spit at Hermione that day..._Mudblood...not worthy of being at Hogwarts...._the painful memories materialized in Hermione's mind.  If the sudden silence of her unusually giddy mother startled Trista, she didn't show it as she followed her mother into Ollivanders.   
  
  
"May I- Mione? Hermione?!" A redhead looked up from the rows and rows of wands afront of him. A young girl with glowing blonde curls entered the wand shop following a familiar looking chestnut woman. It took Ron Weasley a few moments to recognize that it was his Hermione, the third appendage to the golden trio of Hogwarts. Just as he had grown to tower most people at 6' 4", Hermione stood comfortably at 5' 8", a few inches taller than he last saw her .The glossy curls of her sixth and seventh years were still there, held back from her creamy complexion in a usual ponytail. Ron guessed it was usual ponytail as he realized he didn't know anything about his best friend anymore. The muggle clothes she also were surprising, nothing the way he thought a mother-Hermione would dress. She couldn't possibly 27....age had treated Hermione well despite everything and she could pass as a freshman university student.  
  
"Ron...hello?" Hermione was hesitant. She placed a delicate hand on her daughters shoulder, leading her further into the shop. Trista admired the walls that were filled with long thin cases as Hermione admired her old friend. Much taller than she last saw him, his height wasn't one of the few things that changed about him since they parted ways as confused teenagers. His fair red hair had darken, a ginger color that was matched with a short goatee. Gauges in his ears and a tattoo on his neck, Hermione wondered how Hannah and Ollivander reacted to this more alternative Ron... not to mention his mother. She could faintly remember when Molly Weasley found out that Bill had a ponytail and an earring. Hermione smiled, Bill wasn't the only rebel in that family.   
  
"It's been awhile Mione...is that-" Hermione's nod cut off Ron's sentence, the man turning to the petite girl. "You're a very special girl... you're my best friends daughter after all. What type of wand do you think you want? We'll try them all until we find the right one for you!"  
  
*~*  
  
To Hermione, it felt like ages before Trista found the right wand for her. But when it did, Hermione was sure that Trista was a witch. Swishing the eleven inches of wood in the air delicately, red and green sparks flew out of the tip and whipped around Trista's frame, circling her. Open-mouthed, the three inhabitants of the store stared dumbfounded at the racing sparks as they realized what they really were.  
  
"Oh..My...Merlin..." Hermione whispered the words, widening her eyes in shock. When she had gone to get her own wand, she simply had a bouquet of apple blossoms come out of the ten inches of apple and dragon heart string. Never ever did she ever hear of anyone producing _faeries_. 


	3. Whipped Cream

_Understand how I feel   
Losing you has taken me away   
And my mistake   
That I deal with   
I deal with time and over time again_   
-Familiar 48, I know   
  


Chapter Two

  
  
Pansy had her slender arm wrapped tightly aroundDraco's trim waist line. The years he spent playing Quidditch did him good. The healthy habits seeped into his adult years and to this day Draco spent many of his mornings maintaining his body. The not quite middle aged man looked down at his wife, a mixture of sympathy and compassion in his eyes. The pale princess of Slytherian, Pansy had been bred to be his wife. No more, no less. She was a debutante for the Dark Arts.  
  
The once annoying clinging need to be reassured that Draco wasn't leaving her and that he loved her had faded. She was resigned to be second in his life. In Pansy's twisted world view, it was she who one the war. As if Pansy had a chance against Hermione though. Pansy may have gotten the manor and money but Hermione would always have his heart. Instead of distaste or hatred running in his veins for the unfortunate women in his bed, he only felt mercy. It had only been a few years since Pansy's eldest son, Stephan had been born. There was no secret that Stephen was not Draco's son but the son of Luicus , Draco's own father. A slow smirk crossed his face, the earliness of the morning drawing it out. Even with Granger gone for twelve years and ten years since Hogwarts, his life was still twisted. He was raising his half-brother as his own son and his wife had been damaged from months of Cruico and rape under the lead of his own father.   
  
That bastard still walked free though, in the blessed light with the rest of his death eater hooligans. It was ironic and would only happen in the Malfoy family that the son would think of the father as a boy in need of a firm reprimanding._A nice stay at Azkaban would delightful too..._ Even with the downfall of Voldemort in Draco's sixth year and the destruction of most death eaters, the Ministry of Magic still had a fondness for dear old Lucius Malfoy and for the second time he walked free of punishment for his actions.   
  
Putting an arm around his wife's back, Draco pulled Pansy into his embrace. His cat like voice purred in her ear as a whisper, "Wake up Pans. Stephen and Talia would probably like to see you today."  
  
Digging her head deeper into his chest, Pansy yawned before replying with a sleepy, "So what?" The selfishness Pansy possessed and the lackadaisical attitude toward her children exasperated Draco. As cold as he was to his wife and children, Draco would make it a point to spend an hour each day with them. The years he spent alone without Nacissia or Lucius there to help him supplement his tutors' affection had permanently scarred Draco. It took Hermione five years to break the shell Draco built around himself and yet their affections only had a small half year summer before it was over. The night that shattered his shell lived in Draco mind still, replayed every night. It was the only memory powerful enough to block the pain he felt when he thought of what he did to Hermione. The only person he would die for without a thought to it.   
  
Untangling himself from Pansy, Draco gracefully trapeze the room and entered his bathroom to shower. His thoughts were always on Her . The cold shower did surprisingly little on his morning erection. His lithe fingertips drawled on his thighs, moving up and down his length. It shamed Draco that he still thought of Hermione best when he thought of their nights together. Hell, even some of their days together had been wild. The first time they had done anything sexual came to Draco's mind. Hermione had been so nervous they would get caught. The empty charms hall had not been used in decades and it was the middle of the Halloween feast. Their first kiss that night had been rushed, passionate. The feel of her lips still made him stand at attention. They were soft, surprisingly eager for a Gryffindor who didn't care for the Slytherin prince. Her body had folded under his touch. Draco could still imagine the feel of Hermione's warm mouth wrapped around him. Her hazel eyes had been so innocent that day, looking up at him with complete trust. His hands wrapped around his length, quickly pumping himself to climax.   
  
Washing himself off, Draco charmed his hair dry and returned to his bedroom. Pansy still lay in bed, propped on one elbow, paging through the Daily Prophet. Her blonde hair hung in straight lines, the liquid gold which washed in to the room through the French doors gave her a pale, yellowed look."Draco, baby, is Lauren getting Stephens things today or tomorrow? These new dress robes are Madame Malkins are absolutely fablous."  
  
"Neither, I am taking him to get his things today. _This is why _ I wanted you to come with me." Draco was short with Pansy. Draco always was when it concerned his wife. "If you feel like getting up and helping to prepare your eldest son for his first trip to Hogwarts, Stephen and I are stopping at the Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch."   
  
"mmm . That's nice darling." Pansy flipped the page and Draco left the room frustrated.   
  
  
  
"Yes Stephen, only the best for the Malfoys '" Truly his father's son, Stephen had a malice and pride that Draco had only been able to fake. Turning in the three view mirror, Stephen closely examined the high-quality chiffon robes he was modeling for his new school robes. Draco noticed with a melancholic ripple that Stephen was a passable twin for himself at 10 years old. Stephen's platinum hair was slicked back and his mercurial grey eyes were cold. The infamous Malfoy smirk crossed his half-brothers lips as he nodded his approval to his "father".   
  
"Father, I believe that you should push for another piece of legislation that would prohibit the allowance of Mudbloods into Hogwarts" Yes, Stephen was Lucius son. Draco strove to keep his cool aloof exterior from spewing the venomous hatred toward Stephen and Lucius that threatened to show itself.  
  
"As long as a Gryffindor,Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw alumni controls Hogwarts, Stephen, you know perfectly well that no one such thing shall happen." _And I would be damned if I see the day that happen!_ "Madame, could you floo 10 of these robes to Malfoy Manor later today? Stephen you can go change now."  
  
Draco patiently waited for his brother to change back into his day robes outside Madame Malkins . A faint smile passed his lips as he saw a girl, about ten or eleven pass him. Dressed in muggle clothes, a simple cream colored tank top and dark blue denim, the girl had what Draco considered 'Malfoy blonde' hair. She walked with a grace and confidence that made her seem far wiser to the wizarding world than she possibly could be. The thick curls were frizzy, hanging down her back in a thick rubber band. Before Draco was able to make any more observances on the young girl, she disappeared into Flourish and Botts. Draco thought to himself that that was what he wished his daughter with Hermione could have been.   
  
"Father! I do believe that, no matter what type of relationship you and Mother have that a girl like that would be much too young for you."The scorn in his younger brothers' voice was plain, the pre-adolescent boy not coming quite to Dracos ' shoulders.   
  
"Who says that I was looking for myself?"Draco turned from his son and made his way to Ollivanders . "By the time I started Hogwarts I already knew I was to marry your Mother." _ And I hated the thought of it._ Draco hoped that the unspoken threat was caught.   
  
Hermione slid into the booth across from Ron with a grateful sigh. The bags from Trista's first Diagon Alley shopping trip had already been deposited in the Granger flat. Pushing the longer front layers of her chestnut hair out of her eyes, she eyed her old friend. "So...you are back to being Granger huh?"  
  
"Of course I am. How did the wizarding world survive eleven years without me?" Hermione joked, the bright smile that Ron missed most about his teen years revealing itself . Ordering a Shirley Temple ('What? _I_ have a daughter to be role model for after all!'), Hermione quickly found that she and Ron had an easy time falling back into the place they left a few years ago.   
  
  
  
"Well well well . Should I tell Hannah about this extramarital relationship you have with this stunning women Ron?" Harry Potter's striking emerald green eyes peered down at the couple, his innocent grin happy to the golden trio reunited. His black hair stuck up in odd places still, pieces falling afront of his scar and eyes. For a moment, Hermione Granger was speechless. It was the second time that the two men could remember Mione speechless. The first time no one wanted to think about right now. Jumping up quick enough to bang her knee on a table, Hermione enveloped Harry in a hug.   
  
"Harry! I.I.. Congratulations on being the new Defense professor!" Squishing the three into one booth, Harry and Ron on one side and Hermione had the other side to herself, the three spent most of the night in the tavern reminiscing of the good old days before their seventh year. Trista had stopped into the bar briefly, her mother introducing Trista as her daughter and treated Trista to a supper outside of their flat.   
  
"Would any of you like any dessert?" Tom was still working at the Leaky Cauldren, his cracked face smiling at his three favorite customers. Far too long had it been that the three of them had been together. The little girl was a cutie too. "Tonights special is Apple Crisp with some Ice Cream."   
  
Hermione's eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite dessert and immediately said that she and Trista would have two, with extra whipped cream on hers. A simple hot fudge sundae was Harry's order. They waited for the desserts to come, Ron and Harry introduced Trista into the magical world with stories of her mother.  
  
"and your mother -the brains of our grade- says, "but we haven't any wood!" She had her own wand in her hand and she says that.." Ron finished recanted his verision of the Chamber of Secrets as Tom served the two apple crisps, one with a mountain of whipped cream on it.   
  
His green eyes looked between his sundae, which was severely lacking in whipped cream, to Hermiones which had a model scale of Mount. Everest on it, and faked a complaint. "Hey Tom, could you give Hermione anymore?"  
  
Tom just smiled at the man and nodded.."I would have except i need to give you and the little missus there some."  
  
Grinning, Harry started to eat his sundae. "Well you know Mione, i do love whipped cream too.."  
  
"I'll bite you if you dare come between me and my whipped cream."  
  
Trista's face was solemn, a spoon full of warm apple crisp and ice cream halfway to her mouth as she spoke, "She's not kidding...Mum is protective of her whipped cream.."  
  
Harry shrugged and made his mistake. Playfully taking a spoonful of the light cream away, he yelped as he felt a sharp pain travel from his hand. "Hey! You smacked me!"  
  
Hermione's smile was innocent and playful, "I told you not to take any..." She laughed and offered Harry some of her dessert. "You can have the ice cream and the apples..."  
  
  
  
  
The exit of Trista that brought the end of the blithe memories and introduced the underlying questions and problems.   
  
"Mione..." Ron started after a lapse of silence following the departure of Trista. "How can you forgive us? We ridiculed you and left you when you needed us the most."  
  
"Ron, you and Harry and well, all of Hogwarts were acting from fear .. You-know-who .. Ah I mean Voldemort ," The reproachful look from Harry showed he had adopted Dumbledore's way of thinking." was at the epitome of his power. A known Death-eater's son was in love with a Muggle-born witch? Bells would have gone off in anyone's head. I know now you were just trying to protect me." Hermione sat back in the high back booth, her fingers stumbling over a crack in the cherry-hued leather. "And I didn't listen even though you were so so right...I was a stubborn teen. I thought a Malfoy could love....Ididn't want to see that you two were right for once. What was there to do?"   
  
_ Janus _ , Hermione thought noting the look that Ron and Harry exchanged when she mentioned Draco, _Ron and Harry are two sides to one person. _Ron was so fair, he physically contrasted the dark hair and tan of Harry, and it reminded Hermione of cream added to coffee. Yet despite all their differences, they both had the same thoughts, same reactions to her words.  
  
"Mione, you know that's not true. Why would Draco have searched for you _twelve years since anyone heard from you_ and then contact me if he didn't love you after all?" Harry's voice was gentle, hoping to push the thought into Hermione's head.  
  
"Harry, no. I don't understand why he did that but." Hermione trailed for a second, her mind collected the correct why to phrase what she wanted to say. Pushing Harry and Ron away after finding them again would hurt Hermione as deeply as Draco did. "Draco said things that last night no one would truly loved another person could say. Draco Malfoy never loved me."  
  
  
  
When the trio finally separated, the full moon was high over London. Hermione had decided to walk home instead of experimenting with Apperation or Floo . Although Hermione had been ready to take her Apperation test, the events of her seventh year stopped her. Hermione also was unsure if her flat had been hooked up to the network for Floo yet. Memories surrounded Hermione now, little things that she had not thought of for years but now realized how much she missed them. Despite the large size of the glowing orb above her, the London streets were cool for a summer night and Hermione hugged her arms close to her body for the walk.   
  
Her thoughts eventually left the past and she considered what to do with her life now. She had returned to the present. Her job as a teacher at a muggle school seemed silly. Hermione was certain she would be quitting the job. The idea to rent a flat in Diagon's Alley during the school year and a muggle flat in the summer seemed reasonable. Perhaps Hermione could get a job at the Ministry. A job at Flourish and Botts wouldn't be that terrible.   
  
It didn't take long for Hermione to reach her building, the fire engine red bricks were distinguished against the white-washed stucco of the newer buildings surrounding it. The building had been built in the 1800s and gone under severe muggle renovations and restorations. Hermione's flat was on the fourth floor, the top floor. The halls were as quiet as a university dorm in the summer, the humidity that was lacking on the London streets had camped in the hallways of the Prince Edward's Apartment Building. Despite all the renovations, the landlord had decided that only the apartments and lobby would get central air. In the summer, it seemed that no matter the temperature outside, inside those long vertigo inducing halls, the barometer always hovered near 85.   
  
The "Potter" flat was quiet, Hermione found Trista fast asleep with her new cloak wrapped around her body. Unclasping the cloak, Hermione replaced the wool cloak with a sheet. Realizing now that she could use magic, Hermione placed a cooling charm on the sheet. Hermione smiled and wondered how much money she could have saved over the years if she had used heating and cooling charms and even a Lumos charm instead of heat, air conditions and lights. It was a childish fear she had, that Draco would find her if she used magic. It was silly.   
  
Not quite ready for bed like her daughter, Hermione paced around her house, placing a few cooling charms on it and turning off the air conditioning. Changing into looser, more flowing clothes, Hermione lay in between the cool sheets waiting for sleep to come. It wouldn't come and an aggravated unease paced in Hermione's head until it forced her to pace the area of her bedroom. A cool magic breeze chased itself around the flat, lifting tendrils of Hermione's hair as she walked onto the balcony.   
  
Below her, the London streets were quiet. Three o'clock in the morning was always a silent time in this part of the city. For most, it was a time for sleep. For Hermione, it was time to think. The insomnia, that plagued her almost nightly since the birth of Trista, held Hermione in the conscious realm. Hermione wondered if the dreams she would have if she did sleep would be worse than this bland awareness she experienced. Leaning against the balcony railing, Hermione tried to push away the thoughts that screamed the most in her mind.   
  
Hermione had never fully understood Draco. She never understood all the pain, the torment and even the love he felt. The way he had held her so close and then pushed her away was incomprehensible. The most ridiculous, confusing action to her was the most recent. Twelve years, twelve damn years, he finally decides to find if she was alright or not. Hermione fumed silent. He couldn't do it himself though. He had to get Harry to contact her. It wasn't that Hermione was unhappy seeing Harry and Ron again, the contrary, she was ecstatic that they would talk to her after everything. She wanted to apologize to him. The words he spoke that night had devastated her but she knew that she wasn't totally innocent that night. Her words had been just as harsh.   
  
It took this insomnia, this late night to make Hermione admit it but she would admit it. She missed him. Her whole heart, as splintered and fragmented as it was, she still loved Draco. The loneliness, the missing splinters of her heart called for his name, his touch. The hole in her stomach that formed an air-consuming vacuum needed him.   
  
  
  
Hermione's body was a lithe and toned as when we were sixth year perfects together. I stood on the balcony next to hers, the shadows draping my figure. The white cotton of her pants accented her legs, the loose material slightly billowing in breeze that emanated from her flat. Her matching white tank top had a black silk ribbon cinching under her smooth breasts. Chestnut curls which begged to be petted and played with lay between her shoulder blades, a few were light enough to be tossed in that light breeze. Hermione was still as beautiful as when I last saw her. Even if I couldn't read minds, her expression as she looked over the quiet streets told me enough. The loneliness I saw in her the night before she left Hogwarts was still there. The urge to scoop her into my arms and carry her away from any pain could barely be restrained.   
  
She would never remember, not after all these years. My body ached from being held in a tense position for so long. Her hazel eyes looked to my balcony and I felt them run over me. It was impossible for her to see me though, the shadows camouflaged me well. As my courage gathered to speak her name, her back turned away from me. It would be now, when the light of day couldn't stop me that I would have to do this.   
  
  
"Hermione."   
  
  
She froze.   
  
  
A/N: Okay this is probably a little confusing with Draco. Stephen is Draco's half brother but Stephen doesn't know. Stephen thinks that Draco and Pansy are his parents not Lucius and Pansy. And muah, next chapter MAYBE i'll reveal who mr. guy in the shadows is. If anyone would like to beta read this for me, email me (emogirltappers@hotmail.com). You can also get me on AIM: KeeliaLine or CateRose85..hell im me/email/review me if you wanna talk..i always like people and inspiration. (I.e the scene in the Leaky Cauldron...it really happened to me..i am possessive of my whipped cream!) 


End file.
